SILENT I am in the library hunting for tales of darkness and light feasting on the silence some poems are silent this we must respect in a world of horror what can a poem possibly say? some things are terrible some just overblown too big to talk about in a thing called a poem I have worked my way through this book labyrinth found what I was targeting exactly what I was after wondering if the books of light in this library are protected by angels flashing in to defend humanity, promote safety and justice bomb dropped falling as I wonder whether a golden robe goes with the territory is the absolute sign of favour presence of the light
Tag Archives: poem
AND NOW WE KNOW
AND NOW WE KNOW and now we know a Heaven on Earth is not for sharing the beauty of its precincts matched by the horror of its walls and the power that is prayed for in its golden temples seem so cynical in the light of the multitudes who suffer in this life
TIME OF THE SPIDER WASP
TIME OF THE SPIDER WASP But what is the rush? At some point there has to be acceptance acceptance will carry the argument and so, accepting I then accepted the spider wasp’s invitation followed her to the front door and somehow we had found out way out of this crypt moved into the strange air I lingered as she hovered close to my face not wishing to rush enjoying the mystery wondering what kind of portal this must be leading to dimensions adjacent or whole new galaxies infinity is a concept which, crazily, we cannot but believe.
SNOWBALL
SNOWBALL I hit you with a snowball when you were four or five (me six or seven, best as I can remember) a shot to the heart best heart of all you were shocked and aghast and immediately ran inside leaving me, deservedly, out in the cold and what a heart it is same blood as mine ticking away determined to run forever through winf and rain and sun and blue blue skies above yes blue skies would be good and then I can undo that (kept to myself for so long) old snowball shame.
CHUCKY
CHUCKY Hello Chucky ever wondered what will be uncovered, or should I say, be thrown up, when the ice melts tapping out these letters in my missive to you I think of myself as akin to an ancient Sumerian scribe some tablets in scrawl similar to my own freed from the icy prison cause of wonder and derision a text so mythological in its truth, connecting each of us to our true alien other about to be uncovered about to find its strangest mirror in the Universe in all this world.
BREATHE
BREATHE
how do you
deal with what is
ingrained?
chisel
you way out
and now
(as this metaphor
works itself out)
find a
space
in which
to breathe
TUMBLE
TUMBLE I saw you take a tumble fall off the stairway to heaven that great guitar riff playing in the background and so you fell plunged further hit harder than him hurled headlong in that poem by Milton the whole of humanity screamed at your fate demanded you be saved but you did not, could not budge your crimes, though spin-doctored were insanely terrible.
WITH EURIPIDES
WITH EURIPIDES it’s a strange theatre we are watching one where the actors leap off the stage slaughter the audience kill every single one of us I am sure neither the Elizabethans nor the Greek tragedians foresaw this development this total identification of player with character in this strange new brand of history play
NOODLE
NOODLE far from anywhere in the city of Noodle people flattened by the shockwave here left them aghast at this branch of the species so much to learn, too little time in this state of decline our total destruction they fear
TURING TEST
TURING TEST see you posing as trying to be pretending to be purporting to be an ntellectual this you somehow cannot be obviously in human terms I would stoop to the political correctness to label you: cerebrally challenged but if your intelligence just so happen to be artificial I would inquire whether something in your hardwire might not have been substandard perhaps gone radically wrong all your chips jammed up too much sickly slimy spin saturating the silicon innards . making your tech feel stolid steampunk, the crowning achievement of a now distant century
poems 2 die for 